Salvation
by The 7th Officer
Summary: The ship's new Master-At-Arms conquers her inner demons with help from an unexpected source. Rated M for adult themes and references to violence.
1. Sailing Day

**Salvation**

**Author's Note: This is my first ever attempt at writing a fanfiction story. The parts with Murdoch are in 3rd person, whereas the ones with my OC are written in the first person. I hope this doesn't cause confusion. I own nothing except for my truck, and I make no profit whatsoever.  
**

**Chapter 1: Sailing Day**

7:00 a.m.

April 10, 1912. Sailing day. William Murdoch awoke, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a nervous excitement settling upon him. Today the RMS _Titanic_ the grandest ship in the world, was set to sail on her maiden voyage to New York.

"Please let this day go smoothly," he sighed, putting on a white, sleeveless undershirt. Next came his wristwatch, a crisp, clean pair of trousers, and his boots, which he'd spent a good hour polishing the previous night. He was about to shave when there was a knock on the door.

"Will?" came the voice on the other side.

"It's open," Murdoch replied as he brought the razor to his face.

"Mornin' Will," Second Officer Lightoller greeted him as he entered.

"Oh, hello Lights. What can I do for you?" Murdoch turned briefly face his colleague and best friend.

"I wanted to wish you luck today, as you'll be on watch when we set sail."

"Ta," Murdoch replied, letting his Scottish accent show, "but I've been doing this for 16 years, today is no different." The last part was said mostly to reassure himself. He turned his attention back to the task at hand, praying he would not cut himself. How embarrassing that would be!

"Yes well, with all the media attention I thought it couldn't hurt," Lightoller said as he sat down in a chair.

Murdoch washed the excess shaving cream from his face before turning to retrieve a clean shirt. "'Unsinkable.' Can you believe that?" Murdoch scoffed as he buttoned up his shirt.

"It is rather ridiculous," Lightoller chuckled, "though not as much as our recent demotions." Lightoller's tone flattened as he remembered the previous day's fiasco.

"Aye," Murodch agreed as he put on his tie, "a load of bollocks that is. You and I are just as familiar with the _Olympic_'s handling as he is. No use arguing it though, I reckon."

"Perhaps you're right," Lightoller sighed as he stood. "Fancy a coffee?"

"Yeah, I could do with a bit," Murdoch threw on his uniform jacket and hat, "...and perhaps a cigarette!"

Lightoller laughed as they exited Murdoch's quarters. He knew his friend often got to be rather cagey until they got underway, but this was the first time he'd known him to need a dose of nicotine beforehand. "I do hope you won't be pacing the bridge all morning, or I might need one myself!"

* * *

7:30 a.m.

I was jolted awake by someone banging on the door of my cabin.

"Regen!" the voice on the other side shrieked. "Aren't you up yet? You're due up on the bridge in half an hour!"

'Shit,' I thought, 'the last thing I'd need was to be late to a meeting on my first voyage!' "Yeah Richard, I'm up!" I hollered as I jumped out of bed. I hastily washed my face and threw on my uniform, nearly falling on my face trying to get my trousers on. Once dressed I flung open the door, and nearly ran my assistant over. "Christ, sorry Richard," I apologized as I steadied myself.

"You overslept again, didn't you?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes," I sighed, "but don't tell anyone that."

"No worries. Coffee?" Richard held up a cup in front of him, a slight smile on his face.

"Ah, bless you, Richard," I sighed. I took it from him and took a sip, feeling the effects of the caffeine almost immediately.

Richard Landers was my best friend, having known each other since our teenage years. He'd been my rock throughout my professional endeavors, whether his duties required him giving me his shoulder to lean on, or a pep talk before assignments. He was a good man, and an excellent assistant, but damn if the man wasn't more spastic than I could be. Nevertheless, I was very glad, nay, relieved to have him on board with me.

"Are you ready to meet the rest of the crew?" Richard asked excitedly.

"Well, I'm a bit concerned as to how I'll be received, being female and all," I admitted. "Add to that this being my first voyage, and you've got a recipe for disaster." I downed the rest of my coffee and handed him the empty cup.

"Oh it'll be alright once they get to know you, and I'm sure the captain won't allow any funny business." He clapped me on the shoulder reassuringly.

"Right, well, I best be off. Wish me luck." I smiled at him. "Luck," he said, pulling me into a friendly hug.

I straightened my uniform and made my way to the bridge, the whole time trying to calm myself. Deep down, I knew Richard was right, the trouble was getting my stomach to believe it! Upon entering the wheelhouse, I saw the officers, and two men who I presumed were quartermasters, had already been mustered, but the meeting hadn't started yet. 'Oh good, I'm not late!' I thought. I calmly walked in, trying to call as little attention to myself as possible, and stood in an empty space between two officers.

"Haven't seen you around before...are you new?" asked the tanned officer to my right.

"Yes, I am," I answered as confidently as I could manage. "I was transferred to this ship just yesterday."

"Hmmph," the officer snorted, "they seem to be doing that a lot lately." His tone flattened as he eyed a rather tall man who, judging by the number of gold bands around his sleeves, was the Chief Officer.

"Lights!" hissed the shorter officer to my left. "Cut it out."

"Well it's true!" the other exclaimed.

"That may well be but we don't need you stirring up trouble," the shorter one replied.

"Right. Sorry. Charles Lightoller."Tthe tanned officer said as he extended his hand to me.

"Regen Schmidt," I replied, shaking his hand.

"And that there's William Murdoch." Lightoller pointed at the shorter officer.

"Welcome aboard," Murdoch smiled politely as we shook hands.

"Thank you," I said, nodding at him. So far, none of the other officers paid me any mind, more than likely because my overall outward appearance didn't scream "WOMAN!" I am not especially, er, well endowed in the chest, nor are my hips obviously wide. My hair was cut close to my head, as I can't be bothered with the level of maintenance that comes with having longer hair, and I opted for trousers instead of a skirt. How anyone could move efficiently in a skirt and heels in my profession is beyond me.

Our conversation was cut short as the captain, a man by the name of Smith who sported a very neat, white beard made his way onto the bridge. He was accompanied by the ship's builder, Thomas Andrews, and the director of White Star Line, Bruce Ismay. I had met both of them previously, though it became clear to me that Mr. Ismay and I would not get along. During our discussion of my new assignment, he seemed rather appalled that I had been selected to be the replacement. Mr. Andrews, on the other hand, seemed rather impressed with me.

"Good morning," Captain Smith greeted us, taking his place at the front of the wheelhouse.

"Good morning, sir!" we replied enthusiastically.

"Nice to see you all so awake this morning! I trust everyone slept well?"

"Yes sir," we replied.

"Very good." The captain placed his hands behind his back and cleared his throat. "I've called you all together this morning to introduce two new members of our crew. They were both transferred from the _Olympic_ yesterday. For those who haven't already served with him, allow me to introduce Mr. Henry Wilde." He gestured towards the tall man, who had by now migrated to the front of the wheelhouse as well, with his hand. "He will be our Chief Officer until we reach New York." I heard Lightoller make a strange coughing noise. "Is there a problem, Mr. Lightoller?" the captain asked, slightly annoyed.

"No sir," sputtered Lightoller, regaining his composure, "none at all."

"Good. As a result of this change, Mr. Murdoch has assumed the position of First Officer, and Mr. Lightoller that of Second. Mr. Blair has, unfortunately, been removed from the roster." I heard a few disappointed groans from within the ranks at this bit of news. Captain Smith continued, "I'd also like to introduce our new Master-At-Arms, Miss Regen Schmidt." Now it was I he was gesturing at. "She was selected to replace Mr. Bailey, who's wife has sadly taken ill. I trust you all will behave in a professional manner towards Miss Schmidt, as I expect nothing less." He seemed to glare at one of the quartermasters, as if warning him to mind himself.

"Miss Schmidt has been working security for quite some time," Mr. Andrews interjected. "Her dossier was rather impressive," he smiled, almost proudly. This seemed to satisfy the officers, as some gave slight nods of approval. Mr. Wilde, however, cast me a skeptical glance.

"Well I don't want to keep you all too long, there is much to do before we set sail. You are dismissed," Captain Smith told us. The officers broke up and, much to my surprise, came over to introduce themselves to me. Well, except for the Chief, but I assume he figured the captain had already taken care of that.

"Ah, Miss Schmidt," the captain called to me, "I'd like a word before you go."

"Of course, sir," I turned to face him. "What can I do for you?" I admit I was puzzled at to why he'd want to have a private word. After all, we'd already discussed my security plans for departure.

"Considering the general attitude society has towards working women, I thought I would mention that, should you have any trouble with the rest of the crew, don't feel that you must hold your tongue. As far as I'm concerned, you are just as much as member of this ship's crew as anyone else."

"Yes sir. I hope that won't happen, but thank you sir."

"As do I," he smiled. "You are dismissed."

"Aye sir." I turned on my heel and headed back to my office, pleased with how well things went. I also felt reassured that, even if the Chief Officer and Mr. Ismay didn't care for me, at least I had the captain on my side. I felt ready to take on whatever this voyage threw at me.


	2. It's Complicated

**Author's Note: Had to take this down and put it up again, as the changes I'd made never showed up. Thanks to all who have reviewed; it's nice to see that this is being well received so far. :) I still own nothing.  
**

**Chapter 2: It's Complicated**

"So what do you think?" Lightoller asked Murdoch as they walked out onto the bridge.

"About what?" Murdoch inquired, a bit confused.

"Our new Master-At-Arms, silly!" Lightoller shouted.

"Oh, well, I'm sure she's capable of the job, she certainly seems to know what she's doing, but-"

"No, not like that!" Lightoller interrupted. "What, you mean personally?"

"Yes!"

"I don't know, Lights, you were the one doing all the talking," Murdoch joked.

"Ah but you were looking at her the whole time, Will." Lightoller teased.

"Of course I was! I _was_ listening to what she had to say!" Murdoch protested. "Although," he continued thoughtfully, "she does have rather interesting eyes, not quite blue, more like...silver."

"Told you," Lightoller grinned. "You should invite her to breakfast!"

"Oh come off it Lights, I do wish you'd stop playing matchmaker." "Oh come on, Will! What have you got to lose? Worst thing is she says no. Besides, you're not on watch until ten and we don't set sail until noon. What else are you going to do but pace around like an anxious lion until then?"

"You're right," Murdoch sighed, "I'll ask her, but I don't expect she sees anything in me."

"You don't know until you try," Lightoller said, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I wish you'd be this sensible when it mattered," Murdoch teased.

"Ah but then there wouldn't be anyone to keep you on your toes then, would there?" Lightoller laughed and clapped Murdoch on the back. "Go get her, Will."

* * *

I had almost made my way below decks when I heard someone call my name. I turned around to see it had been Mr. Murdoch; what could he possibly need me for?

"Miss Schmidt," he started when he caught up to me, "I was wondering if you might join me for breakfast, as I'm not on watch until ten."

"I do appreciate the offer, Mr. Murdoch, but please don't feel you have to be nice to me because I'm a woman." I nearly pleaded that to him. "In fact, I'm quite accustomed to men questioning my abilities."

He chuckled a little. "Well, I don't feel that way; I would just like to get to know you better. And not once did I question your abilities," he said, his voice adopting a more serious tone.

"I can only assume that, like the rest of us, you would not be here if you were not competent in your field." He smiled at me again, though this time it was as if to say "Don't be silly, woman."

I briefly looked down, trying to hide the fact that I was indeed blushing. "Thank you, sir," I replied, looking back up at him, "and I do appreciate your offer, but I must decline as I've still got work that needs to be done. Perhaps some other time, once things have settled down."

"I understand," he said.

I could have been imagining it, but Mr. Murdoch sounded a bit disappointed, which surprised me, I must admit. I'm not used to men wanting much to do with me. "And please, call me Regen. I've never cared much for such formality." I explain.

"Well, Regen," he extended his hand to me, "it's a pleasure to meet you, officially." Why did his smile have to be so damn captivating?

"Likewise, Mr. Murdoch." I smiled back earnestly as we shook hands again. Our eyes locked for a brief moment, and I found myself not wanting to look away. I don't know what it was about him, perhaps it was his honest face or the genuineness of his smile, but I felt strangely comforted by his mere presence. Truth be told, I didn't really want our meeting to end.

"I should probably get back to the bridge," Mr. Murdoch mused. "Perhaps we'll meet again?" There was a hopeful lilt in his voice.

"Oh I'm sure you'll see me around. I can only sit behind that desk for so long." We parted ways, and I felt a slight pang of sadness as he left.

I had lied to him. In reality, I didn't have much work left to do at all. And I was hungry. But the man had, unbeknownst to him of course, stirred up something in me that ultimately led to heartache the last time I'd felt that way. The only man I had ever loved, the man I had been engaged to, and to whom I was willing to give every thing, apparently had found greener pastures with his secretary. I had had the honor of catching them in the act upon arriving home early one evening. I had never seen a man run so fast.

"So how'd it go?" Richard asked once I entered my office.

"Rather well, actually. Only the Chief seems to hate me." I half smiled as I sat at my desk. "No, in all seriousness, every thing went well. The officers even introduced themselves to me." I reached for my hidden bottle of rum and poured myself a shot.

"So why the rum?" Richard asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"I was invited to breakfast by the First Officer," I answered.

"And that makes you want to drink?"

"No, but the memories do," I explained before downing the shot.

"Oh," he said somberly, knowing immediately what I was talking about.

I put the rum and glass back in their hiding place and leaned back in my chair. "After what happened with Colin, I'd sworn never to put myself in that situation again. But this officer has managed to awaken something in me that had died with our love. I'm not saying I love him, but there is something about him that draws me to him; I felt oddly comforted by his presence." I explained.

"Why did you decline his invitation then?" Richard asked.

"Because it scares me," I sighed, rubbing my forehead. "And because I'm only on this ship for two weeks, whereas his post I assume will be more permanent, so there's no point in getting caught up in some fling with a sailor."

"Well I think you should see him. It'd be good for you. Your feelings obviously betray you." A mischievous grin appeared on Richard's face. "Besides, flings can be fun!" "Only you, Richard," I laughed and threw a crumpled up piece of paper at him.


	3. Picking Locks And Picking Brains

**Author's Note: Hopefully I've gotten all the typos in this one. Thanks again to those who have reviewed thus far, and to those who have added this to their favorites, I am honored. *takes a bow* Disclaimer remains the same. Enjoy. :)  
**

**Chapter 3: Picking Locks And Picking Brains**

9:10 a.m.

Murdoch had just finished his breakfast, somewhat disappointed that his only company had been that of the ship's Fourth Officer, Joseph Boxhall, who actually hadn't been that much company at all. He had more or less came into the officers' mess, devoured his breakfast, poured himself the last cup of tea, and left. Fifth Officer Harold Lowe had made a brief appearance a few minutes later, grumbled about there being no more tea, and put a fresh kettle on before being summoned back to the bridge by Chief Officer Wilde.

"Such a cheerful bunch, they are," Murdoch said to himself as he made himself another cup of tea. No sooner had he put the kettle down, when Lightoller barged in.

"So!" he exclaimed. "When's the wedding?"

"Bloody hell, Lights!" Murdoch yelped while trying not to spill his tea. "Was that really necessary?"

Lightoller burst into laughter at this point. "Sorry, mate, couldn't resist," he said as he made himself a cup. "So how was it?"

"She declined, on account of having work to finish," Murdoch answered.

"Oh, sorry to hear that."

"Ah, no worries," Murdoch waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, "'twas just a matter of bad timing." He took a sip of his tea. "It's been some time since a woman has caught my attention, and I intend to see what becomes of this."

"Oi, I got an idea!" Lightoller blurted out excitedly. "Why not ask her up to dinner with us?"

"I'm trying to court her, not scare her away!" Murdoch gave Lightoller a playful shove. "I'm sure after getting to know you, she'd think we're all a bunch of right loons!"

"Nah mate, she'd think that if she met our lookouts!" Lightoller corrected him.

The sailors in question, Fred Fleet and Reginald Lee, were notorious for stirring up trouble, though all in good fun.

"Aye, you're right about that," Murdoch agreed.

"So what about our Master-At-Arms has got you all riled up anyway? She seems a bit, well, unorthodox." Lightoller was genuinely curious.

Murdoch took a long sip of his tea, contemplating his answer. "That's what got me, to be honest. Regen isn't like other women, to say the least. That's what makes her interesting. In fact, I find her rather intriguing. While we were talking, I could almost see in her eyes that something troubles her. And at the same time, there's this sort of free spiritedness about her."

"Well I wish you luck, mate, you deserve a girl who's gonna make you happy." Lightoller said.

"Ta," Mudroch replied as he finished his tea, "and I hope you'll behave yourself in front of my guest tonight, Lights."

"You're taking my advice then?" Lightoller asked excitedly.

"Indeed I am." Murdoch replied, his confidence renewed, as he almost strutted out to the bridge for his watch. '

He's go it bad,' Lightoller thought as he drank his tea.

* * *

3:15 p.m.

"Honestly, I just don't understand why these locks work that way. It's quite ridiculous," the lady huffed.

"It's a security measure, ma'am. Both bolts have to be unlatched for the door to open. It prevents inadvertent entry."

Ah the joys of rescuing first class ladies who've managed to lock themselves out of their staterooms.

"But that's silly; surely only one would suffice."

"Perhaps that's a matter better discussed with Mr. Andrews, ma'am," I said as I pulled my key ring out of my pocket.

I located my skeleton key, which is a specially modified key designed to force open all the locks on the ship, and got down on one knee, inserting the skeleton key into the lock.

"Oh do hurry up, I need to change in time for tea! I'm meeting the Countess of Rothes, you know."

I rolled my eyes. "I understand your frustration, ma'am, but I'm going to have to ask you to be quiet so I can hear the bolt disengage."

I removed my hat and placed my right ear against the door. After a few minutes, I heard a soft "Click!" and I stood, opening the door for her. "There you are, ma'am. Might I suggest making sure not to leave your key lying about in the future." I smiled politely as I put my hat back on.

"Certainly took you long enough," she huffed as she pushed past me into her room, shutting the door in my face as well, I might add.

"You're welcome," I muttered under my breath as I headed down the corridor.

After completing my patrol below decks, I headed topside for some much needed fresh air. I wandered to the aft end of the boat deck, overlooking the ship's stern, and leaned against the railing. _Titanic_ was truly a spectacular ship. I felt honored yet humbled to have this assignment, as I was serving with the best crew White Star had to offer. Against my better judgment, I let my mind wander to Mr. Murdoch. He seemed so genuine, with his pale blue eyes and that warm, gentle smile of his. He was a stark contrast to most of the men I had come across in my life, except for Richard of course. I admit it, I found him attractive, and a part of me hated it. The other part, however, was thrilled that he seemed to take such an interest in me.

Feeling a sudden presence to my right, I turned to find Mr. Murdoch had joined me at the railing. 'Speak of the devil,' I thought, somewhat amused. "How long have you been standing there?" A small grin creeped across my face.

"Long enough to notice that something is troubling you," he answered. "Care to discuss it?"

"Ah," I sighed, "I had to play locksmith in first class just now; the woman would not stop rambling at me. Once I got her door unlocked, she practically shoved me out of the way and shut the door in my face. More like no class if you ask me."

He laughed at that. "Aye, they can be rather harrowing to deal with," he nodded in agreement, "but don't let it bother you. Not worth the mental effort."

"Are they always like that? Uptight and everything?"

"Usually, but not always."

We stared out over the ocean, enjoying a brief but comfortable silence.

"I meant to ask this earlier," Murdoch started, his accent a welcome invasion upon my ears, "you surname is Schmidt...are you German?"

"Not entirely," I said, looking back at him. "I was born in the U.S., Baltimore, to be exact, but my parents are German immigrants."

"Ah," he said, "so how'd you end up here, if you don't mind me asking?"

"You mean on the ship? Or England?"

"Both, I suppose." He was smiling at me again.

"Well, let's see...my father worked on the docks in the harbor, and when I could I would visit him there. Sometimes I'd be allowed to get on the tugboats. It was through him that I got my love for being on the water. He died from complications from tuberculosis when I was 17. I'd always dreamed of having some sort of seafaring career, preferably one that didn't involve doing rich ladies' hair." I heard him chuckle at that remark, and I grinned inwardly, pleased that I could make him laugh.

"Anyway, he was the only one in the family who supported me in my decision. When he passed, I decided there was no reason for me to stay, so I used what inheritance I was left to make my way to England."

"What about your family, your mother? I can't imagine she'd want you to leave," Mr. Murdoch asked, curious.

"She didn't. But we've never seen eye-to-eye, to say the least. She wanted to marry me off to some rich guy, and I was having none of it. She didn't approve of my aspirations at all." I paused and looked down. "Like I said, my father was the only one who supported me. I was devastated when he passed. Before he died, he made me promise I'd go after my dream." I picked my head back up. "And it was a promise I kept."

I looked at Mr. Murdoch, surprised to see he'd been listening rather attentively. I took this as a cue that he wanted me to continue. "I secured a position with the London Police as an auxiliary officer, how I managed to do that I still haven't the faintest idea, and shortly thereafter I met Richard. His father owned a pub, and Richard convinced him to hire me as security due to my skills with the police. A few years after that, I contracted myself out to various people and establishments for security work. I applied to White Star Line only 3 months ago, and much to my surprise, was granted an interview. I must have really impressed someone, because here I am." I half-smiled at him.

Mr. Murdoch was staring rather intently at me now, probably trying to process all I'd just told him. He suddenly moved closer to me, which made my heart jump in my chest."I find that absolutely fascinating," he stated, which caused me to blush...again.

"Thank you," I said softly, looking right into his eyes, "but it certainly wasn't a glamorous journey." The memories of my experiences often resurfaced when I spoke of them, which was why I seldom did.

"Regen," Mr. Murdoch said rather authoritatively, "I'd be honored if you would join me for dinner this evening." Did he just say what I think he said?

"Pardon me?"

"I'd like you to have dinner with me tonight," he repeated.

'Bloody hell the First Officer just asked me to be his dinner date!' I thought. "I...I don't have anything to wear..." I admitted in a mild state of shock.

"Calm down," he laughed, "I mean with us, the officers! Did you really think I'd toss you into the shark tank that is first class? I can barely stand them myself!"

I laughed with him this time, relieved at what he just said. "I'd love to," I said, smiling at him.

"Lovely. I'll call for you at 7:30 then."

"I look forward to it."

I wanted him to hold my hand, or kiss me on the cheek, or...something, but it was probably best we maintained some sort of professionalism in...whatever this is.

"Until then," he smiled at me, giving me a slight salute before going back towards the bridge.

'Well I'll be goddamned,' I thought in disbelief as I watched him leave, 'I've got a date.'


	4. Risks

**Author's Note: Sorry this took a bit longer, but the dinner scene was tricky for me to write. Seriously, I had to rewrite it probably 4 times. That and this band called Sabaton invaded my city over the weekend. Anyway, hope you all enjoy it. Drop me some feedback yeah? :)  
**

**Chapter 4: Risks**

The next 3 hours seem to drag on. I looked for any activity to make the time go by faster. Patrol the forward cargo hold. Re-organize my desk. Clean my Webley (my service revolver). Patrol the aft cargo hold. Escorted a second class passenger to her cabin (without the arm linking, of course. That would have been awkward!). Clean my Remington 1911 R1 (my personal sidearm). Re-organize my desk again.

"Regen for God's sake calm down!" Richard exclaimed from behind his desk. "You're making me nervous flitting about like that." He was right; I needed to relax.

"Sorry," I said, "I'm just nervous, you know. D'you mind if I bum a cigarette?"

He tossed his cigarette case at me, which I caught with my hat, because the man never could get his aim right.

"Thanks, mate," I said as I put one between my lips and lit it.

"So what are you so jittery over? I haven't seen you like this since the company interviewed you."

"I have a date," I smiled as I tossed his cigarette case back at him.

"With that officer?"

I simply raised my eyebrows at him.

"I told you!" he said, pointing his finger at me. I laughed.

"So what you gonna wear then?" he asked.

"What I've got on," I stated as I took a drag. "It's just going to be the officers, not the captain's table or anything."

"You. Dining with a bunch of sailors."

"Not a bunch, Richard. I except only 4 of them would be there."

"Still...," he mused.

"What, you don't think I can handle myself?" I grinned.

"Of course you can! No, it's them I worry about, what with that hand cannon you carry around," he said jokingly, referring to my .45 caliber sidearm.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Would you rather I take the Webley then?"

"Do you really think you need to carry either of them?"

I stubbed out my cigarette. "Richard, you ought to know why I carry. The wound may be old, but the memory is still fresh."

"Ah yes," he said, biting his lip, "I'd forgotten about that. So when's he coming to get you then? I'd really like to meet this man, and warn him about he's gotten himself into." He snickered.

"On the grounds of our friendship, I will ignore that," I snicker back. "He said he'd be here at 7:30."

"Well you better get going, 'cause you've only got 15 minutes," he pointed at the clock.

"What?" I looked at the clock. "Shit!" I ran into my cabin, which was attached to my office, took off my hat, and quickly washed my hair in the sink. It didn't need to be done, but I had some rather embarrassing hat hair from having worn my uniform cap all day. I reached for a towel, dried my hair, looked in the mirror...and frowned. My hair was rather poofy, which was not exactly the look I really wanted to have. I borrowed some of Richard's pomade to tame it a bit, to flatten it down, but not so much that it was stiff. Satisfied, I took my cap off its peg and gently placed it on my head, careful not to disturb my hair too much. No sooner had I done that, there was a knock a door. I looked at the clock again, it was exactly 7:30.

Richard was opening the door to my office as I exited my cabin. "Evening, Officer. How can I help you?" I heard him ask.

"I'm calling for the Master-At-Arms. Is she in?" was the reply.

"Oh! You must be her date!"

"Richard!" I hissed as I appeared at his side.

He snickered as I hit him with my hat.

"Excuse him," I said to Mr. Murdoch, "sometimes he thinks he's funny. Mr. Murdoch, this is Richard Landers, my assistant. Richard, this is First Officer Murdoch."

"Nice to meet you, Richard," Mr. Murdoch said, offering Richard his hand.

"Yes, sir. You too," Richard said as they shook hands, his professional side making an appearance.

"Well, Regen, shall we ?" Mr. Mudrdoch asked cheerfully.

"Indeed," I said before looking to my assistant. "Richard, you're in charge until I get back."

"Aye boss," Richard said, half-saluting me.

I stepped out into the corridor, shutting the door behind me. "Wait," I said, "if I'm your date for dinner, shouldn't you be offering me your arm?" I asked, somewhat uncertain, as I certainly was no expert on etiquette.

Mr. Murdoch look at me with raised eyebrows. "Aren't you concerned people will talk?" he asked me.

I smirked at his question. "Does it look like I care what people think?" I asked him.

"No," he chuckled, "no, I reckon not. But only on the condition that you call me Will."

"Fair enough," I said, smiling at him.

Will then offered me his arm, which of course I accepted, and we started off towards the bridge.

"But what if they talk about me?" he asked, not wanting his professionalism to be called into question.

I answered him quite confidently, "I have twisted my knee and you are fulfilling your duty by assisting me."

"You certainly are prepared for everything, aren't you?" he teased. I looked at him and grinned, "I have to be."

I must say, having a handsome sailor on your arm does wonders for your confidence. And if being near him was calming, being _right next to him_ was damn near intoxicating. I actually thought I could feel that "spark" when I had linked my arm with his. Thankfully, we didn't come across to many passengers on our journey, no doubt because the majority of them were at dinner themselves, so there was hardly any need for me to feign injury.

"You look lovely tonight, I might add," Will said suddenly.

Now that, I wasn't prepared for. "I'm only wearing my uniform..." I said, completely taken off guard.

"Ah now here's a secret," he said, leaning closer to me, "you don't have to be covered in jewels to be considered attractive."

I didn't have time to reply, because as he finished that sentence, we had entered the wheelhouse, where Chief Officer Wilde was standing watch, along with two of the junior officers. It was at this time that Will and I had to unlink arms, as to avoid stares. I nodded respectfully at Mr. Wilde, but he looked away from us.

"This way," Will said, leading me to the officers' mess.

"Oi Will, you bring us some company?" Mr. Lightoller said as we made our entrance.

"Indeed I have. Lads, you remember Regen, our Master-At-Arms."

"Hello," Sixth Officer James Moody waved at me, elbowing the Fifth Officer to attention as he did so.

"Ow! Dammit James why did you – oh. Evening," Mr. Lowe tipped his hat to me.

"Good evening," I replied, removing my hat, "I hope I'm not intruding. Mr. Murdoch invited me, you see."

"I shouldn't think so," Mr. Moody said.

"Better you than Henry," Mr. Lightoller quipped.

"It's certainly nice to see you again, Mr. Lightoller," I said, taking a seat next to him.

"The pleasure is all mine," he said, smiling at me," and please, call me Lights. You are part of the family now, after all."

"Well thank you, Lights." I immediately felt the nervousness melt away upon learning that I had been accepted into their circle.

"So," Will said as he sat down next to me, "What'll you be having?"

"Whatever you're having," I answered him.

"Alright. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"Tea with lemon would be nice," I said. To be honest, I'd have liked to have had a beer. Will nodded his acknowledgment, and rose to retrieve my requested beverage, stopping to give our orders for dinner to a steward.

"Well, Regen, why not tell us about yourself, eh?" Mr. Lightoller suggested as he began eating his dinner.

"To be honest, there isn't very much to tell," I said rather modestly.

"If I may say," Mr. Moody began,"I find it difficult to believe that, considering your position. I'm sure you have some rather interesting stories to tell, at least."

"Well, I have been shot at a few times..." I admit, somewhat reluctantly.

Well, that certainly got their attention. Will nearly dropped the cup of tea he was carrying. I immediately regretted making that statement.

"Bugger me," I heard Mr. Lowe say to himself.

Mr. Moody looked rather shocked; he obviously had not been expecting that kind of response.

"Where?" Mr. Lightoller exclaimed, wide-eyed.

"My left shoulder, near the collarbone," I answered.

"How the bloody hell did that happen?" Mr. Lowe asked.

"Language!" Mr. Moody scolded.

"Oh sod off, James," came Mr. Lowe's retort.

Will sat down, rather stunned at what I'd just told them, and handed me my tea. I thanked him and a took a long sip before beginning my story.

"It was quite some time ago, probably 4 years ago now, I think. My assistant's father owned a pub, and I was working security for him at the time. There had been two men who had quite a bit to drink, and they started arguing, over what I cannot remember. I went over to them, and told them that they needed to calm down, or take it elsewhere, as we didn't want any trouble. One of the men took offense to me telling him this, most likely because I am not a man, and got rather nasty with me. So I told him he had to leave, and that he was banned from the pub as a result of his behavior. His friends managed to convince him to leave, and so they left. Then, the man he was arguing with chased after him, shouting insults and causing more trouble. I went outside to talk some sense into the other man. All of sudden I heard a gunshot. I turned to face the direction it came from, and...I don't remember much after that, actually, aside from how much it hurt." I took another sip of tea. "I was told afterwards that the first man had pulled his gun in a drunken rage, and had intended to hit the man I was trying to calm down."

"Blimey," Lightoller said in disbelief, "and you didn't quit after that?"

"No sir," I said, "didn't see the point, to be honest."

"Bugger me," Mr. Lowe said again.

By this time, our dinner had arrived, and thankfully the conversation became a bit more positive, as Mr. Lightoller entertained us with a story about an "incident," as Will called it, at Fort Denison.

"Bloody embarrassing, that was," Will said.

"It was funny, and you know it," Mr. Lightoller stated. I couldn't help laughing, nearly to the point of tears, as they argued amongst themselves.

A short while later, Mr. Lightoller bade me good night, explaining that he had to return to the bridge, as he'd been only temporarily relieved by Chief Officer Wilde. Mr. Lowe had also left, presumably to get some sleep.

"I'm afraid it's nearly time for me to be on watch again, as well," Will said, somewhat remorsefully. "Shall I walk you back?"

"I'd like that," I answer, smiling at him.

Once we'd gotten clear of the bridge, Will offered me his arm again, which I gladly accepted.

"I had a lovely time tonight, Will. Thank you."

"And thank you, Regen, for the pleasure of your company."

I swear, if he didn't stop stop smiling at me, I don't know how much more self control I could have exercised.

"I hope I didn't scare you with my story," I said apologetically, "it was the first thing that came to mind, and I regret having told it now."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. In fact, I find it quite admirable that that incident didn't deter you from continuing your career."

"Thank you, that means a lot to me," I told him.

When we arrived back at my office, my mind started racing. Would he kiss me? Does he even feel that way about me? I hoped he did; I would have hated to be told otherwise. I don't remember feeling so strongly for anyone...not even my ex-fiance. Oh, the complications our feelings create.

"I...I'd like to see you again, if that's alright with you," I said without even thinking. Once I realized what had just come out of my mouth, my heart started pounding in my chest and I felt my face get hot. I mentally braced myself for the answer I didn't want to receive. I think then I saw Will wearing the biggest smile I'd seen from him all day.

"Regen, I can't think of a better way to spend my free time."


	5. Richard's Help

**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, had some writer's block going on. Of course, pulling a 6 night stretch at work isn't helping. But, I wanted to give you something to read before I got too busy at work with the upcoming holiday. Feedback is always appreciated. :) Oh, and I've gotten myself a Twitter. Should anyone be interested, you can find me here: The7thOfficer.  
**

**Chapter 5: Richard's Help**

April 11, 1912

9:32 a.m.

Richard strode into the bridge and tapped Second Officer Lightoller on the shoulder. "'Scuse me sir, but is Mr. Murdoch about?" he asked.

Lightoller turned around to face Richard. "Who, might I ask, is calling for him?"

"Richard Landers, sir, Regen's assistant."

"Very well. Wait here," Lightoller told him, before leaving to fetch Murdoch.

He peeked his head into the officers' mess, waiting for the exact moment to call Murdoch's attention. "Oi!" he shouted, right as Murdoch began pouring his second cup of coffee, causing Murdoch to spill some onto the floor.

"Dammit Lights!" He turned around and pointed a finger at his colleague. "You do that again and I'll-"

"Did you know Regen has an assistant?" Lightoller interrupted him, immediately diffusing whatever explosion Murdoch was about to have.

"Yes, I met him yesterday. Why do you ask?" Murdoch asked.

"'Cause he's out on the boat deck wanting a word with you about something or other." Lightoller then gasped dramatically, "Oi, you don't think Regen's his lady do you?"

"Really Lights. If that was the case he'd have never let her come up here last night."

"Oh, right. Well he wants a word with you anyways."

"Alright. And clean that up would you?" Murdoch pointed at the splatter of coffee on the floor as he made his way out of the officers' mess.

"Why should I?" Lightoller furrowed his brow.

"Because you're the one who made me spill it!" Murdoch hollered over his shoulder.

Lightoller stared at the spill. "Bollocks," he muttered.

"Hello, Mr. Landers. What can I do for you?" Murdoch asked as he approached Richard.

"Well sir, you see, I am also Regen's best friend, and have been for some time. And as such, I am concerned about her well-being, as I'm sure you can understand."

"Aye, I can," Murdoch nodded.

"Well, she seems to quite fancy you, sir, and, if I may, it looks as if you fancy her as well. I obviously don't have an issue with that. However, she has been hurt before, by a man who fancied her, not physically, but emotionally. He was her first and only love, and what he did still haunts her sometimes." He paused to take a deep breath. "What I'm trying to say, sir, is that, if you're serious about pursuing Regen, lovely. If not, I would suggest that whatever it is that's going on end now, before she gets too involved in it. I don't want her to get hurt again, and with all she's been through, she deserves a man who will give her all the love and devotion that a man should give his lady. I hope you haven't taken offense at any of this, as I speak purely as her friend on this matter."

"No offense taken at all, Mr. Landers. If anything, I respect that you have come to tell me this. And you can rest assured that I have no dishonorable intentions whatsoever."

"Oh good," Richard sighed with relief. "Well I shan't keep you any longer, I'm sure you have a lot to do. But I thank you for your time and understanding, sir."

"Oh it's no trouble, Mr. Landers. Before you go though, do you know if Regen will be free this afternoon?"

"I'm not completely sure, sir. I know we have an afternoon patrol of the whole ship, and who knows how long that will take. After that, to my knowledge, there's nothing else she'd need to see to, unless of course she's called for."

"Thank you, Mr. Landers." Murodch couldn't help but smile.

"You're welcome, Mr. Murdoch." Richard turned on his heel and made his way back below decks.

"Alright, spill it," Lightoller demanded as Murdoch returned to the bridge.

"Regen fancies me, Lights," he said trying to hide his excitement.

"You're welcome," Lightoller replied.

* * *

2:15 p.m.

'Bloody hell this is a huge ship!' I thought. Richard and I had already spent two hours on patrol, starting on the Orlop Deck, and had only managed to get halfway through F Deck. The rest of the patrol would be quicker, though, as E Deck up to A Deck was mostly crew cabins and staterooms. The previous three decks had been a nightmare due to there being so much storage space and cargo areas to check (for stowaways, you know). It was a good thing I'd become used to so much walking, otherwise I'm sure my legs would have been sore by now.

About an hour and a half later, we arrived on B Deck. As we were walking through the corridor of first class staterooms, I heard a commotion coming from one of the hallways off the main corridor. Upon getting closer, it occurred to me that it was a couple having some sort of hushed argument, with the woman sounding rather distressed. I looked down the hallway to find I was indeed correct in my assumption, as a young woman was being held against her will by her wrist, and a young man apparently was chastising her for something. Normally, I would ignore this sort of thing, because we all have disagreements. Hell, Colin and I had nearly come to blows once or twice, but the woman seemed to be afraid of him, so I decided to investigate the situation. I felt even more validated when I saw him raise his hand to her.

I quickly strode up to them, steeling my nerves should he decide to get physical. "Sir, I suggest you cut that out, or you and I will have a conversation that you won't like." And by "conversation," I meant him on the floor, with my knee in his back, being detained.

The man turned around to face me, still holding onto the poor woman's wrist. "Really?" he sneered.

"Really," I said, standing at my full 5'5" and looking straight in his eyes. "Now let her go, or I will take you into custody."

He reluctantly let go of the woman's wrist and crossed his arms across his chest, presumably to intimidate me. "Do you even know who I am?" he spat at me.

"You're a passenger, sir," I replied bluntly, "and I'm the Master-At-Arms. And if you wish to enjoy the rest of your trip out of the brig, you would do well to keep your temper under control."

The man finally backed down, the notion that I was fully willing to back up my position becoming clear to him.

"Your superior will hear of this," he said, pointing his finger at me.

"I am my superior sir, but if you feel I have acted unprofessionally, you may file a complaint with Mr. Ismay. My last name is Schmidt. Spelled D-T, not T-T."

The man turned around and stormed off, the woman following him.

I breathed deeply, relieving the pressure of the built up adrenaline, and turned around to find Will standing behind me.

"Afternoon," he greeted me, smiling.

"How is it you seem to always know where I am?" I asked.

"It's a secret," he answered.

"I don't believe that and you know it," I said, slightly amused at the situation. I heard stifled giggling around the corner of the hallway. "Richard!" More giggling. I turned back to face Will. "Oh for-, I don't believe this. You're in cahoots with him, aren't you?" I pointed in Richard's general direction.

Will seemed to be trying to contain his laughter at this point, but was failing horribly.

"That is so not fair," I said, laughing.

"Come topside with me; I want to show you something." He sounded so serious despite the grin on his face.

"I'd love to, but I still have a whole deck to patrol, and..."

"You go on, Regen," Richard interjected. "I'll finish up and inform you of any problems. I insist," he grinned.

I'd given up; it was useless debating with those two. "Well, alright then. Where are we going?" I asked Will.

"Follow me," he said.

And with that, we were on our way to the boat deck.


	6. Making It Official

**Author's Note: I sincerely thank everyone who has reviewed, as it gets me excited to continue this. And with that, I give you the sixth chapter. Oh yeah, don't forget to hit the blue button down there at the bottom. Ta. :)  
**

**Chapter 6: Making It Official  
**

4:00 p.m.

"Will! Where are we going?" I persisted as we got topside.

"Oh come now, Regen, you have to let me keep _one_ of my secrets!" he teased as I fell into stride beside him.

I relented until I realized we where approaching the ship's bridge. "Will, I've already been up here, remember? And it makes me uncomfortable in any case."

"Really? Why?" He was surprised to hear that.

"Because Mr. Wilde keeps staring daggers at me whenever I'm up there," I explain in a hushed tone, as if I were spreading the latest gossip.

"Relax," he said as we stopped outside the officers' quarters, "we're not going that far. No, what I want to show you is right here. Well, up there, actually." He pointed upwards.

Immediately I raised my eyebrows. "Up there," I repeated, a skeptical tone in my voice, pointing in the same direction as he had.

Will nodded in affirmation. "After you." He gestured at the metal ladder that led up to the roof of the officers' quarters.

"No, you first," I said, slightly suspicious of where this was headed.

"If you insist," he sighed, apparently wishing I'd stop being so tense, and proceeded to climb up the ladder.

Once he was up there, I climbed up myself, taking hold of the hand he'd offered to help me up. He had quite a grip, I have to say, though his hand wasn't as rough as I figured it would be after years of sailing.

"Now what?" I inquired, still not sure of exactly what was going on.

He laughed a little. "You ask too many questions."

"Sorry, but it's unusual for me to follow strange men to unknown destinations," I told him.

"Am I a strange man?" he asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"In the sense that I don't know you very well, yes."

"Well, we shall have to change that then, won't we?" He gestured for me to follow him, and proceeded to walk to the edge of the officers' quarters that faced the bow of the ship.

'...The hell is he doing?' I wondered as I watched him.

Will sat down on the roof, his legs dangling over the edge, and once again gestured for me to follow him. I finally got my legs to move, and walked over to him.

"Do you do this with every girl you meet?" I asked as I sat down next to him. He smiled at me.

"No, I can honestly say you're the first."

"The view up here is breath taking," I said. We could see well beyond _Titanic_'s bow out into the horizon. I removed my hat to feel the breeze in my hair (hat hair be damned!).

"I thought you might like it," he said.

I could tell he was looking at me, but I kept my eyes forward, still confused about what exactly was going on between us. My mind started racing again. Are we officially courting? Does he intend to pursue this beyond this voyage? Where is this headed?

And most importantly...

"Are you married?" I looked at him, blurting out my question, again without thinking. I was developing a bad habit of doing that.

Will was taken off guard by such a blunt question.

"No," he said, "never have been. I take it you're not either?"

"No, but I was engaged at one time."

"Did he pass on as well?"

"No," I said shaking my head, "but he may as well have. I haven't seen or heard from him since I ended things. Probably a good thing, for his sake." I paused to light a cigarette. "He...had an affair," I answered his question before he could even ask.

"How long had you been together?" I could detect a hint of sympathy in his voice.

"4 years, engaged for one," I replied. I could feel a tear forming in my eye, but I blinked it away. No use crying over a man who didn't care enough to be faithful.

"Anyway, enough of my drama," I said, taking a drag off my cigarette, "now that you know more about me than you probably wanted to, why not tell me about yourself, sailor man." I smiled gave him a playful nudge with my elbow.

Will found that rather amusing. "Sailor man?" he smiled at me, and I raised my eyebrows at him. Damn his smile; it will be the end of me.

"Very well," he said. "I'm from Dalbeattie, Scotland, and come from a long line of...'sailor men'." It was my turn to receive a playful elbow nudge, and I couldn't help but snicker. "I've been sailing for over 16 years, 12 of them with White Star Line. I also hold the rank of lieutenant in the Royal Naval Reserve. And to be honest, I was engaged once, as well."

"What happened to that?" I couldn't imagine any woman in her right mind letting him get away.

"To put it simply, she asked me to make choice...and I did."

"Hmm," I said, taking the last drag of my cigarette before putting it out. "If she really loved you, she wouldn't have put you in that position. I would never ask a man to give up his happiness for me...unless of course it conflicted with mine."

I noticed that Will had moved himself closer to me, but I quickly dismissed any fleeting romantic conclusions from my mind, not wanting to get my hopes up too high.

"And one more thing," he said, leaning so close to me I could smell his aftershave, "I rather fancy you, Regen Schmidt."

What did just say? I'm sure my face was bright red by now, and I thought I'd felt my heart stop for a moment. "Doesn't it bother you that I'm not like the rest of them?" I asked, curious.

"Not at all. In fact, it's a nice change...and it's what got my attention in the first place. It's been my experience that most women just go through life at the will of others, doing what they are expected to do rather than what they want to do, wanting a husband who will give them a life of luxury, but I can tell that sort of life doesn't appeal to you. No, you decide you want to do something, and you do it. And you bloody well have a lot more confidence than any other woman I've seen. I don't know anyone who would have had a confrontation with a wealthy male passenger, let alone come out on top."

"You saw that?" I asked, rather surprised.

"Aye, I did."

"I was only doing my job..." I replied modestly. Inwardly, I felt immense pride knowing that I had impressed him. I took a deep breath and finally asked the question that had been nagging at me for the past 10 minutes. "So...are you asking me to be your lady?" I figured I should ask, since he hadn't.

"I had hoped you would do me the honor," he admitted.

I was silent for a moment, contemplating on what he just said. I turned to look at him, smiling. "I'd like that," I said.

Will gave me another one of his amazing smiles. "Come here," he said softly as he put his arm around me.

I slid closer and leaned against him, and we sat like that for a while, staring out at the ocean. For the first time in my life, I felt truly at peace with the world. It was on board the RMS _Titanic_, out in the middle of the vast Atlantic Ocean, that I had found my piece of heaven.

And I vowed to never let him go.


	7. Party Hardy On Titanic

**Author's Note: Well, this one certainly seemed to take forever, yeah? My apologies. Apparently my manager thinks I don't have a life and saw fit to schedule me for 7 nights in a row. Needless to say, I didn't really have as much time as usual to work on this. Anyway! On with the show. Hope you find it worth the wait. :) Oh yeah, +10 Awesome Points for whoever gets the chapter title reference.  
**

**Chapter 7: Party Hardy On Titanic**

_Some take their hope, and hide it away  
It burns in the darkness, like gold in a grave  
There's a spark inside, that can't be concealed  
No heart is so secret that it won't be healed_

_So before the night is over  
Make your heart an open door  
Then all we hold inside us  
Won't divide us any more  
So before the night is over  
And the time we have is done  
Before our courage fades away  
Let our hearts be bound as one_

_And I've lost my way, when nothing is clear  
And I've been afraid to love, then I heard what I fear  
I can face the night, find strength in your eyes  
Not afraid to fall, not afraid to rise_

_So before the night is over  
Make your heart an open door  
Then all we hold inside us  
Won't divide us any more  
So before the night is over  
And the time we have is done  
Before our courage fades away  
Let our hearts be bound as one_

_- _Gaelic Storm, "Before The Night Is Over"

* * *

6:20 p.m.

"When's your watch?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"At ten," Will replied.

"Shouldn't you be getting some sleep, then?" I dropped back into reality.

"I've gone on less," he said, "and I would hate to disturb you. It looks as if this is the first time you've been so calm in quite some time."

"It is," I sighed deeply. How true that was, too. I'd lived a rather intense life, always having to have my guard up, always being alert, not to mention the pressure of constantly having to prove myself. Even with Colin I never truly got a reprieve, because we occasionally had spats over his drinking.

I could tell Will was different though; my instinct is very rarely wrong. Why else would I have let him in this far? I felt so calm when I was near him, as if him just being near me silenced the chaos in my head, and for once I could just _be. _Which gave me a fantastic idea.

"Feel up to getting into some mischief?" I sat back upright and grinned at him. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to ask a senior officer, but I figured both of us could use an opportunity to let off some steam. Plus, I wanted him to see that I, in fact, did know how to have a proper good time.

"What?" Clearly, he was confused as to what I meant.

"Not that kind of mischief," I laughed as I stood up, "I mean partying." I put my hat back on, walked back over to the ladder and started to descend to the boat deck.

"But I've-"

"Relax, I'll have you back up in time for watch," I reassured him. "Besides, I followed you, didn't I?"

Will couldn't argue that, he knew full well he'd distracted me from my duties. I considered this payback.

"Aye, you did," he said, smiling, before making his way down to the deck. "So where is this party, then?" he asked.

"Third class," I replied, "Lights told me they were having a 'right jolly time' down there last night." I made sure to imitate Mr. Lightoller's accent, which was either really amusing or a really bad attempt, because Will burst into laughter...which in turn got me to laughing.

And so it continued that way as we walked all the way to the aft end of the ship, and below to C Deck. Will and I tried hard to be mature, proper adults around the passengers, but considering the good mood he had put me in, we ended up acting like teenagers. Each time we'd pass a first class passenger, one of us just _had_ to make some sort of commentary, which got the other trying hard to stifle laughter or keep a straight face. We did finally calm down and behave ourselves once we got to the third class area, because really, who is there to scandalize in third class?

We entered the third class general room to find the party had already started, as we were greeted by music, laughter, and some hollering from already drunk passengers. Never fails; there's always a few who start early. Having worked in a pub for most of my career, I immediately felt right at home.

I grabbed hold of a steward. "Have you got anything German?" I asked him.

"Yes ma'am, we have-"

"Good. Get me a Warsteiner," I told him, clapping him on the arm, before sending him on his way.

"Should you be drinking?" Will asked me.

"I'm not drinking, I'm just having a pint," I explained as I tipped the steward when he returned with my beer.

Will was about to say something when someone suddenly crashed into me from behind. Thankfully I managed to keep from falling over, but half my beer ended up on the floor. I turned around to find it had been a rather young lady who, judging by her dress, had snuck down from first class. I was shocked, to say the least. I always thought first class women stayed away from us dregs of society.

"Oh! I am so sorry!" The woman apologized.

"No worries," I said, giving her a small smile, "no harm done."

I felt Will slide his arm around my waist as I took a swallow of beer. "You know you're dancing with me, right?"

I nearly spilled my beer again. Dancing? Oh lord, that _would_ be a disaster. Wealthy men with attitude issues were no problem for me. Dancing with a man? That was quite a different story. I looked at him and pointed at what was left in my glass. "I'm going to need a bit more than this if we're going to do that!" I was only half-serious.

Will chuckled. "Alright, stay here, I'll be back," he told me, and he disappeared to find a steward. By the time I'd finished my beer, Will returned with a full glass. "Here, try this," he said, handing it over to me. I took a swallow, discovering that it wasn't beer, but cider. Damn, he really did want me to dance with him!

"I am warning you, I haven't danced ever in my life," I told him as I finished off my cider.

"Never?" Will had taken his jacket off and was rolling up his shirt sleeves.

I shook my head. "Never. My ex wasn't much for dancing...he liked to drink though, perhaps a bit too much."

"Well then," he said, extending his hand out to me, "allow me to be the first."

The liquid courage was beginning to take effect by now, and honestly, I don't think I could deny him anything as long as he smiled at me. "Alright, sailor man," I smiled back as I placed my hand in his, "impress me."

'Alright Regen, no turning back now,' I thought as Will led me to the floor.

"Now, we're gonna have to get pretty close," he said, his Scottish accent becoming a bit more prominent than it had been, "like this."Will wrapped his right arm around my waist and pulled me closer to him, so that there ended up being very little space between us. "Relax," he said, "don't think."

He needn't worry about that, as my mind had gone blank as soon as he had all but eliminated the air molecules between us. I don't think I could have formed a coherent thought at that moment even if I was stone cold sober. The sensory part of my brain, however, seemed to kick into overdrive as we danced. Everything seemed non-existent except for him. The warm yet firm grip he had on my hand, his arm around me, feeling the muscles in his arm flex under my hand, all of it seemed magnified. I don't know if it was the alcohol, or the feeling I got from being so close to him, but I almost felt as if I wasn't even touching the floor. It was a wonderfully intense experience.

Our dance came to an end as the band began playing a slower tune, one with more romantic intentions.

"Fancy another go?" Will asked.

I checked the time; the clock read 8:45. "I'd love to, but I'm afraid I should be getting back," I replied, somewhat remorsefully, "and you need to get back soon as well."

"Aye, it's probably best," he agreed as he put his uniform jacket back on. "Walk back with me?"

Ah, officers...always disguising commands as questions.

"If you insist," I smiled at him. This time, we did manage to behave ourselves on our way back topside.

Upon reaching the boat deck, and after making sure there was nobody about, Will and I linked arms again.

"Well, Regen, I must admit I enjoyed shirking duty with you this evening," Will said.

"You weren't shirking anything," I laughed, "It was _you_ who distracted _me_, remember?"

"Ah but you did come with me," he argued.

"Well, you're an officer. I wasn't exactly going to disobey an order now was I?" I'd got him laughing again.

"Promise me you won't lose that quick wit of yours," he said, "it's one of the many things I like about you."

I blushed again. "I'm glad to know you can appreciate it...it's rare to find someone who understands it."

We came to a stop just short of the bridge and separated to a more "professional" distance.

"Thank you for, you know, dancing with me," I said quietly, still embarrassed that, at 30, I hadn't previously engaged in such an activity, "I should like to do it again sometime."

"You can count on that," Will said, smiling at me again. "I must go now," he said quietly.

I nodded, understanding but not entirely liking that fact. "Good night, Will."

"Good night, Regen." He took hold of my hand and placed a gentle kiss on the back of it, gave me one last smile, and went off to prepare for his watch.

I watched him go, then turned to look at my hand, somewhat in disbelief that he'd just done that. I quickly shook my head, as if doing that would snap me back to reality, that I'd wake up and this would all have been a dream, but alas, this _was_ reality, and I loved it.

I turned to go make the long journey back down to E Deck, during which I came to the realization that I had fallen for Will. Hard.

And I was perfectly fine with that.

**A/N: I'm well aware that crew would never have gotten by with this (let alone deck officers), but if Rose could get away with it, I see no reason why Will and Regen can't. 'Tis fiction, after all. ;)**


	8. The Size Of The Fight In The Dog

**Author's Note: Seems I've acquired quite a following with this. :) I am indeed honored. Things are going to start getting interesting now!  
**

**Chapter 8: The Size Of The Fight In The Dog**

April 12, 1012

9:10 a.m.

"Richard, why is there no tea in the kettle?" I looked at him and turned it upside down to illustrate my point.

"Because I've only just got in," he said, looking up from a small stack of papers, "I intend on putting some on after I sort through today's issues to be addressed."

"Ah, I see," I said, placing the tea kettle back in its place. "Anything interesting today?" I ask.

"Not as of yet...wait, here's one." Richard pulled a sheet of paper out from his stack and read it aloud, "'Regen: I would very much like it if you were to place me under arrest and give me a _hard_ interrogation.'"

"Who the hell wrote _that_?" I asked, wide eyed.

"There's no name; it's just signed with the initials 'C.L.'"

"Oh my god," I groaned, rubbing my forehead. I didn't know whether to laugh or be offended. Fortunately, I tended to see the humor in such things, and started snickering uncontrollably.

Richard gave me a mischievous smile. "So are you going to grant him his request?"

"No," I said abruptly, "I'm spoken for now."

"Pity," Richard said, "I shall have to give Mr. 'C.L.' my sympathies."

"I'm sure he'll live," I said as I secured my sidearm in its shoulder holster. "Besides, I'm not a detective. It's not in the scope of my duty to interrogate people. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going up to the bridge."

"What for?" Richard asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Because this ship is manned by a bunch of Brits who, unlike the Master-At-Arms, are not deprived of caffeinated beverages," I explain, smirking at him as I put on my uniform jacket.

"You could just go to the crews' mess, you know, it's a lot closer."

"I want tea, Richard, not what's left over at the bottom of the pot."

That got a snicker out of him. "That's not too far from the truth," he said.

"I won't be long," I called over my shoulder as I entered the main E Deck corridor.

"Good morning , Regen," Sixth Officer Moody greeted me, rather cheerfully, as I entered the officers' mess.

Fourth Officer Boxhall looked up from his plate."Come to join us for breakfast?"

"Unfortunately I can't today," I replied as I went about fixing up my beverage, "seems I've got quite a day ahead of me. Just came up to get some tea."

"Nonsense," Mr. Boxhall said, "here, I've had enough anyway." He slid his plate of pancakes over to an empty spot at the table.

"Well, thank you," I said, slightly taken aback by his generosity, and took a seat.

"So what's on your agenda today?" Mr. Moody asked, genuinely curious.

"Nothing very interesting, if that's the answer you're looking for. Well, aside from a passenger who thinks he's funny and requests that I arrest him and...uh..." I wracked my brain for a suitable way to describe what his note said, "well, let's just say that he apparently wouldn't mind being detained in my office."

"Can't say that I blame him," Mr. Lightoller declared as he blessed us with his company, staking claim to the chair right next to me. "Maybe he saw how you handled that man in first class; some men like a woman who takes charge, you know."

"You know about that?"

"Oh yes, word travels fast when at sea, even on large ships such as this one."

"I have a feeling I know who's been spreading it too," I said dryly, rolling my eyes. I suppose Richard was only trying to help improve my image amongst the crew, but sometimes I'd rather my actions speak for themselves. "Anyway, it doesn't matter, I'm spoken for anyhow."

"Really?" Mr. Moody interjected.

"Really," I said.

"By whom?" Mr. Lightoller inquired.

"You sure are nosy, aren't you Lights?" I asked him playfully.

"Don't mind him," Mr. Boxhall piped up, "he's got nothing better to do than get in other people's business."

"Bugger off, Joe," Mr. Lightoller said. "So who's the lucky man?" he asked again, turning his attention back to me.

"That's classified information," I replied as I finished my breakfast.

"Crew or passenger?" Mr. Moody inquired.

I contemplated for a moment. "Crew," I said, "and that's all you're getting out of me."

"Pity," Mr. Lightoller said. "Well, I suppose I should get back to my post before Will finds out I'm in here. It was lovely seeing you again, Regen. I do hope you'll be visiting us more often." He flashed me a warm smile, and was off.

"I should be getting back as well," I said as I stood. "I thank you again for sharing your breakfast with me, Mr. Boxhall. I shall see you both later."

"Cheerio!" Mr. Moody said.

I laughed inwardly, as it seemed he was always so...well, British.

As I was leaving the bridge, I bumped into one of the quartermasters, who, I'd come to find out, was the one I had seen Captain Smith glare at when he introduced me to the officers.

"The hell you doing up here? Shouldn't you be down with the other stewardesses?" he sneered.

'Mind your tongue, Regen,' I told myself. "I am Master-At-Arms on this ship, sailor, and as such I am granted full access to all parts of it," I calmly explained, "I shall go where I like."

"Yeah, and I bet you were giving them officers some 'company' eh?"

'That's it,' the voice in my head said. I faked an amused laugh. "You think you're clever, don't you?"

He just smiled at me, clearly pleased with his low-brow remark.

"OK," I nodded, then gave him a quick, hard punch in his stomach. I hadn't hit him with full force, just enough to catch him off guard. The quartermaster immediately doubled over, having had the wind knocked right out of him. I leaned over him, leveling my head with his, and said to him, in a tone so quiet only he could hear, "Try that again, sailor, and the next one will be a bit lower."

He could only nod his acknowledgment.

"I'm glad we have an understanding," I smiled, before turning on my heel and going about my way, hoping that that incident was indicative to the kind of day I was going to have.

* * *

10:02 a.m.

"Lights, I've been thinking," Will Murdoch stated as he came onto the bridge to relieve Lightoller.

"Oh, morning Will. I'm fine, thanks for asking," Lightoller said, giving his friend a playful smile. He tried to be serious once he noticed that something was clearly weighing on Murdoch's mind, but that had never been something he was very good at. "About what, exactly? Have you been plotting on overthrowing Henry so we can reclaim our positions?"

"No Lights, that's mutiny."

"You really need to get a sense of humor, you know. All right Will, what's going on?"

Murdoch stared out into the horizon and took a deep breath. "I think it's time I tell Regen exactly how I feel. I think she still thinks I'm not serious about this."

"Do you really think she feels as you do?"

"Aye," Murdoch said, turning to face Lightoller, "but I can sense she's holding back. She's been engaged once, and they apparently had a rocky relationship, from what I gather. I reckon she's afraid of getting hurt again."

"You think you can handle such a free spirited woman? From what I hear she's got quite the stubborn streak...and, if you'll pardon the metaphor, as much testicular fortitude as any man I've known. I daresay she'd even give _me_ a run for my money."

"Aye, that she does," Murdoch agreed, "but I rather like that, actually. I admire a woman who speaks her mind. Besides, she likes being at sea as well." He couldn't help but smile at the fact that he'd finally met a woman who understood, and perhaps even shared, his love for the seafaring life.

"Well then you better hold on to her Will, it's very rare to find a woman like that. D'you know she came up here earlier?"

"Was she looking for me?" Murdoch asked, trying hard not to sound too excited.

"She never said, but you know how sneaky women can be, always hiding their true motives," Lightoller joked as he checked his pocket watch for the time. "Right then, I'm off on my rounds. Good luck, mate." Lightoller clapped Murdoch on the back.

"Ta," Murdoch replied, looking back out at the ocean ahead of him. "Hopefully I won't need it..."


	9. It'll Be OK

**Author's Note: Holy long time between chapters Batman! I did not forget about this, just got delayed with things like writer's block, power outages, and enlisting in the Navy. I have no idea how many collective hours I stared OpenOffice down, the blinking cursor taunting me. Anyway, I do hope this was worth the wait! Vielen Dank, EredLuin, für deine Hilfe mit diesem Kapitel!  
**

**Chapter 9: It'll Be OK**

3:34 p.m.

Paperwork. I hated paperwork. And yet, I was so engrossed in it that I hadn't noticed someone had entered my office until a black sleeve, marked with two gold bands, entered my peripheral vision as my visitor set his officers' cap onto my desk. "You know," I said without looking up from my work, "sometimes I think you stalk me."

Will laughed as he took as seat in one of the chairs opposite my desk. "Somehow, I don't think that would bother you."

That wasn't the only thing he could do that wouldn't bother me. A small smile crept across my face as I leaned back in my chair and rubbed my eyes, which were strained from reading so much tiny print. "So what brings you all the way down here? Come to distract me from duty again?" I asked.

"I want you to have dinner with me again," he said, rather bluntly.

"Alright," I said.

After a moment's hesitation, he added, "At the Captain's table."

I nearly fell out of my chair. "Are you out of your mind?" I asked, my brain having gone into panic mode.

"What's wrong?" Will asked, rather taken aback at my reaction.

"I am _not_ society material, Will. They'll eat me alive. To be honest, getting shot again sounds only slightly more pleasant."

"I thought you might say that," he sighed, a twinge of disappointment in his voice.

I suddenly felt a pang of guilt hit me; clearly he was rather upset at having been proven correct. "You...you really want me to go, don't you?" I asked him, a tenderness in my voice.

"I wouldn't have asked otherwise," he replied.

The realization hit me. Will wasn't asking so he could have someone on his arm, this was another date to him, not a formality. I mentally chided myself for having been so dense. He seemed to take my silent contemplation for further rejection, and reluctantly stood to leave. I quickly stood as well, and steeled myself for the pride swallowing I was about to do.

"Wait," I said, gesturing for him to stop. I walked out from behind my desk and over to him, and took a deep breath. "The simple fact is that, well, the idea of dining with high society scares the daylights out of me. I've never been one to conform to society's protocols, and frankly, I don't intend to. To be honest, I can't tell the difference between a salad fork and a dessert fork, nor could I pronounce half the items on the menu. The fact that Mr. Ismay will no doubt be there as well just makes it worse, as he and I don't have the best working relationship, to say the least. But seeing as it means so much to you, I will go to dinner with you tonight."

There. I said it. The time that passed between my confession and his reaction seemed to be an eternity.

Will stepped closer to me, and took my hand in his. "Regen, listen to me," he said a an authoritative, yet tender tone, "if you're worried about impressing me, you shouldn't be. You've already done that. Besides, you have something that many of those high class women do not."

I looked up at him in curiosity. "What would that be?"

"Personality," he simply replied. A shy smile crept across my face.

"And anyway," Will continued, "I think they'll all be too busy listening to Mr. Ismay brag incessantly about 'his ship' to pay much attention to us."

"Perhaps you're right," I said, trying to hide the fact that I was very close to losing all my self control and taking him into my quarters right this minute. Richard was out; no one would know.

"Shall I come for you at seven then?" he asked.

"Seven would be perfect. I should have all my work done by then."

" Good," he said, smiling, "until then..."

What happened next was not really meant to happen. I think his plan was to just give me a kiss on the cheek. The actual way things went was entirely my doing, without me even realizing it. At the very last second, I had turned my head, and our lips made contact. It felt as if a jolt of electricity ran through my nerves and straight to my heart. My brain suddenly became capable of coherent thought though, and I broke our kiss almost as quickly as I'd started it.

"Shit I...I'm so sorry..." I stammered, "I...I don't know what I was thinking..." Hmm, swearing and babbling on like an idiot; yes sir, I was a real charmer.

"Regen, calm down," Will said as he grabbed me by the shoulders, "it's alright." His hands were now on either side of face, and he had turned my head so that I had no choice but to look him in the eyes, which, lovely though they were, was difficult considering how bloody embarrassed I was.

"It's alright," he repeated, "in fact, I'm glad one of us finally got up the nerve to do that."

"Really?" I asked, slightly stunned.

"Aye," Will replied, smiling at me. "And here's another secret," he continued, his lips right next to my ear, voice barley above a whisper, "I rather like it when you don't think."

As he let his hands drop from my face, I turned to ask him what he meant by that, but his lips were back on mine again before a could get a word out. It would come to be that this would be his way of letting me know I was over-analyzing and needed to stop it. This one lasted much longer than the first, and seemed to speak the words that we had yet to say.

"I...I still don't have anything to wear..." I confessed as we broke our kiss.

Will chuckled. "I wouldn't worry about that, love," he said.

I wanted to object, because one was expected to dress for dinner, but I stopped myself, realizing I was over thinking things again. "So, seven then?" I asked.

"Aye," he answered, "I'll come for you then. In the meantime, try not to worry so much."

"I'll do my best," I said, giving him a small smile.

"That's all I can ask for," he smiled back as he put his hat back on.

We kissed one more time, a final, quick peck on the lips, and then he was off, presumably to get some rest.

I returned to my position behind my desk, and breathed a deep sigh. I was thrilled by what had just happened, but yet, I just couldn't quite shake the feeling that I had no idea what I was getting into. I honestly didn't think Will knew what he was getting himself into. I truly thought he was underestimating the situation.

The night's events would prove one of us right. I just hoped it wouldn't be me.


	10. Catharsis

**Author's Note: Sorry this took so long, but this was tricky to write, and also I had issues with my laptop (corrupted hard drive) so I couldn't work on this for a whole week! D: Hope you enjoy it. :)  
**

**Chapter 10: Catharsis**

You should always look like you know what you're doing, even if you don't. It's safe to say I've adopted that as my life's motto, and I believe, was one thing I could attribute my success to. I put on a damn good bluff. Tonight was no different, and every effort was made to look my best. I had managed to find my dress uniform (I thought it had gotten left behind in the chaos that was my transfer), polished my boots, the finishing touch being my ring I'd received upon graduating the police academy. Richard even helped, although not without remarking that I should invest in my own tin of pomade if was going to be "going on fancy dates with sailors."

The evening started off well enough. Will arrived right on time, as usual, and looked quite a sight in his sailor's mess dress.

"I thought you said you didn't have anything to wear?" he teased as we ventured off to the first class dining area.

"Oh this? I found it; I don't even know if it's mine," I played along.

"Well, who's ever it is, you certainly make it look good."

I felt myself blushing again. "Stop it," I said, a shy smile creeping across my face, "you're embarrassing me."

"What, I can't give m'lady a compliment?" he asked, in mock offense, purposefully laying his accent on thick, which nearly sent me into a fit of laughter.

"It's just...I'm not used to it," I replied as I regained my composure, "you give me far too much credit."

"And you deserve all of it," he told me.

Before I could protest, we had entered the first class dining saloon, and even if I had had the time to protest, it'd have been useless, because the sheer opulence of the place had left me unable to speak. Not to mention what everyone was wearing; the dresses some of these women wore would probably cost me a couple years' pay! Will and I attracted quite a few stares from the passengers, though I like to think it was because we, both decked out in mess dress, were the classiest couple in the place, and not because I was wearing trousers. I did happen to catch two young female passengers gesturing at Will and giggling like school girls, and rewarded them with a look that said, in no uncertain terms, "Don't even try it." Their balloon deflated, they moved on in search of some other man to gawk at. Richard always did say I had the tact of a brick.

Our company at dinner was rather pleasant, thought I admit I didn't recognize anyone aside from Mr. Ismay, Mr. Andrews, and of course Captain Smith. Well, not exactly. I did know who Mr. Astor was, only because when one is that rich, you're hard pressed to find somebody who _doesn't_ know who you are!

"I thought we were being joined by the Master-At-Arms? Rather rude of him to send his secretary..." one man quipped.

"And you shall be, unless of course you'd rather dine with my assistant, in which case you'll find him in the crew's mess," I informed him.

He gave me a confused look.

"Regen Schmidt," I said, offering him my hand, "Master-At-Arms."

To my surprise, the man shook my hand, and introduced himself as George Widener.

And so the night went on, Mr. Ismay bragging on about "his" ship, which no doubt made Mr. Andrews a bit uncomfortable, as he was a man who didn't much care to be in the spotlight. He and I certainly had that in common, and I was inevitably put on the spot and practically underwent an interrogation. Well, they weren't fielding me hostile questions, but with the politics involved in dining with high society, that's what it felt like.

"What do you think of the women's suffrage movement?"

"Well, to be quite honest, I've never been one to follow politics. I'm not saying I wouldn't like to see it happen, but I don't have a head for that kind of thing."

"I hear this is your first assignment; how are you liking shipboard life?"

"Quite well, actually. I only wish my office had a porthole. I'm almost literally stuck in the guts of the ship."

This made Will laugh, as he could no doubt relate, and even he got in on the questioning. "So," he began as he gave me a mischievous smile, "rumor has it you've been shot once. Is there any truth to that?"

I could have killed him for bringing that up in such company. I quickly gave him a dirty look before answering his question.

"Yes, actually, there is."

"Where?!" Mr. Andrews blurted out.

"When did this happen?" Captain Smith asked, obviously concerned that a member of his crew had done it.

"Do tell!" Mrs. Astor exclaimed excitedly.

I briefly looked at the ceiling, in somewhat of a silent prayer, before beginning my story, "Well, it's been about four years ago now. Basically, what happened was, I was working security at a pub, which is owned by my assistant's father. A couple of the patrons had had too much to drink, and began arguing. I eventually got them to go outside, and tried to calm things down. Next thing I know, there's a gunshot, and I'm laying down with a hole below my collarbone."

"What did you afterwards?!" Mrs. Astor asked, clearly enamored by my tale.

"Well, I was taken to the hospital, got the bullet removed, healed up, and went back to work," I replied matter-of-factly.

"I say," Mr. Astor interjected, "is there a scar?"

"Well yes," I replied, "I'm just happy there wasn't an exit wound."

Mr. Andrews chuckled at that.

Dinner was almost nearing an end, and I thought for sure I was in the clear. However, there always has to be someone who spoils the fun.

"So, Ms. Schmidt," Mr. Widener began, "how is it you managed to get this position?"

Ah yes, there it was. I took a swallow of water as I contemplated my answer. "Well sir, just as anyone gets a job. I put int for it, and I was hired."

"Oh there must be more to it than that," he said, "after all, it's certainly unusual for a woman to get such a position, you know."

"What exactly are you trying to imply?" I asked tersely, daring him to expand on his thought. Will seemed to notice I was getting irritated by this man, because he managed to get us excused from the dinner party before the conversation took a nasty turn.

* * *

9:02 p.m.

We didn't speak until we'd gotten outside on the boat deck. I was almost ready to snap, and he could sense this. Once topside, I just headed aft, not having a destination in mind. The chill in the air didn't bother me, in fact it was almost welcomed. Will followed me, as I expected he would.

"Look, Regen-"

"I'm in no mood for a lecture, Will," I warned.

"I'm not going to give you one," he said.

"Nor am I sorry for anything, with the exception of ruining your evening. I do apologize for that. But I've about had enough of all this talk about how I came to be where I am."

"You don't know that that's what he was implying," Will said, trying to be the voice of reason.

"Yes it bloody well was," I stopped dead in my tracks and turned to face him, "I might be dense Will, but I am _not _naïve."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way," he apologized.

I was having difficulty being mad around him, his voice was already soothing the savage beast, so to speak. I began pacing the deck, needing some outlet for the adrenaline that had built up.

"Think about it," I said as I paced, "how would you feel if, every day, your abilities were constantly called into question? To wake up every morning knowing that you have to go harder than you did yesterday? If everyone told you 'You can't,' and when you finally prove them wrong, when you finally get what you've spent _years_ working to achieve, they ask who you slept with to get it?! I constantly have to prove myself, and I'm tired of it. Mr. Ismay didn't put me on this ship because of my experience, he put me here because I was the only one available. I can see it in the way he looks at me; he'd rather shoot himself in the foot than have me on board. I'm not asking for sympathy, or respect, because I know I won't get it, nor do I want it. All I'm asking for is, one day, for someone to say 'That's Regen, she's the Master-At-Arms,' and people will say 'Well alright,' instead of fucking staring at me like I've got three heads!" By now tears were forming in the corners of my eyes, and, despite my valiant efforts to blink them away, were slowly trickling down my face. I was hoping it would be dark enough that Will couldn't see. With an exasperated sigh, I sat down against the exterior of the ship, stuck in that weird place of mental exhaustion and physical relief of having released years of frustration.

"Why is it you never questioned me?" I looked up at him in genuine curiosity.

Will slowly walked over to me and pulled me to my feet, looked me dead in the eyes and said, "Because I knew from the moment I met you that you were someone special."

We stood there for a few seconds, just staring at each other. It was an odd display. To look at us, you'd think we were having a confrontation. He was literally in my face, standing toe to toe with me. Suddenly, I leaned back against the exterior of the ship, grabbing him by the lapels of his uniform jacket, pulling him right up against me, and kissed him. His arms were around me without a moment's hesitation, and we were locked in a moment of passion neither one of us had known before. I moved my hands to his sides, got a handful of uniform in each, and held him there as he reluctantly broke things up.

"I don't have time for this," Will whispered in my ear, remorsefully.

I knew exactly what he meant, and my heart ached at hearing it. "I trust you Will," I said, my voice slightly shaking from emotion, "don't make me regret it."

"Never," he whispered.


End file.
